


Demon's Brood

by iDiru



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Blood and Gore, Cas Whump, Dean is a dick, Episode: s08e21 The Great Escapist, I can't write Crowley, M/M, Mpreg, Not sexual rape, Object Insertion, Rape/Non-con Elements, Season/Series 08, Season/Series 09, Torture, platonic sastiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:11:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iDiru/pseuds/iDiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley has a devious plan involving Castiel to keep the gates of Hell from being closed, but fails when his double-agent works against him. It's up to the Winchesters to look after Castiel now, and to find out how to fix just what Crowley has done to him, or how to deal with it in general.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Great Escapist

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if this is shit, I've literally never written Crowley but I tried. Oh my god, did I try.  
> Also there is literally torture in this first chapter so be warned.

                When Castiel fled the tomb, which seemed like ages ago, he had never anticipated ending up where he was now. Bleeding, wounded to the point of immobility with one of his own watching like it was nothing. Working with the enemy… The corruption was worse than he thought, but at this point it was not something he could dwell on. The fact of the matter is, he had failed. Disobeyed his orders in Heaven, and failed with his own mission. He thought he was clever; he thought nothing could get in his way but clearly, he was wrong.

 

                It was bad enough when he discovered by Naomi, but even worse so when discovered by Crowley. And after he’d had the one thing he spent so long trying to protect from just about everyone forcibly ripped from his own body, he thought it was done. He thought _he_ was done, and he was just about willing to accept his death if it meant getting out of the immense pain he was in. But that wasn’t the end of it. So he waited; waited for one of them to end it. Shove a blade through his heart and be done with him, as he was obviously a thorn in the side of many. But it didn’t happen.

 

                Crowley, seemingly amused with the whole situation, had left, leaving him in the care of that traitorous angel, Ion he thought his name was. His head was swimming at the moment and he couldn’t quite care enough to remember names. He returned almost moments later holding something that Castiel couldn’t identify, nor did he care to. The most he could see of it was a long tube-like apparatus; the rest of it was hidden from his view.

“I’ve got a nice surprise for you, Cas,” the demon finally said, smirking at him in that condescending way that he often had. He unfurled the tube, finding that it was dangerous looking. Some hook-like claw on the end of it while the other, again, was hidden from view.

“Why must you toy with me when you can kill me here and now?” he asked, voice weak and hoarse.

 

                Castiel certainly didn’t feel his comment was amusing, but Crowley certainly did. He gave a shocked laugh, and with a tone of amusement, “Kill you? Oh no, see, I’ve got plans for you Cas. Big plans.” Crowley said, striding over to him with a confidence and swagger that only the ruler of Hell could have. It was then that things started to change in ways Castiel couldn’t expect. It was sudden, almost ridiculous and he couldn’t tell who had done it but he realized he was missing his pants. It jolted him, and he tried to move but within seconds Ion was behind him, dragging him off the chair and roughly onto the floor. He pinned him down, using the strength that Castiel lacked at the moment. Crowley was grinning down at him in amusement, and Castiel felt fear creeping into him.

“Crowley…No, please-,” he was cut off by an amused chuckle.

“No what…? Oh, you think I-?” he stopped himself with a laugh, “Oh come now, you don’t think I’d stoop that low, do you? I may be evil but there are just some things you don’t do. I enjoy sex…consensual. Unfortunately, there are some things we can’t keep consensual, my dear Castiel,”

Ion, who was quiet, suddenly placed his hand hard on Castiel’s forehead, so that he was pinned there too and unable to see what was going on. He could feel Crowley’s hands on him though, rough against his thighs as he pushed them apart.

“Why are you doing this?” Castiel asked, or rather grunted out.

“To be honest, Cas, with the Winchesters meddling around in my affairs, a guy can get nervous. So I took a few precautions. Poked around downstairs to see if I had anyone locked up with any good information. Turns out, there’s an angel down there; fallen. Ancient fellow, he is. Gave me a bit of good advice. Long story short, I’ll be taking you to hell, Cas. And you’re going to be a mommy.”

 

                Before Castiel could even retort he felt an immense amount of pressure below, starting out cold but then turning hot. Oh God, it was so hot; it was burning him. Without even entering he felt his flesh starting to singe, and when it did, it was worse. His dedicated silence was interrupted by a sharp gasp as he felt his inner, sensitive flesh burning and singing like fire. It burned, but it lacked heat; there was no actual fire, it was more akin to acid. He clutched at nothingness; anything to alleviate his pain. The floor at first, as he scraped against it with his nails in desperation. He wanted to move so badly but he didn’t have the strength. He was so incredibly weakened with that bullet still lodged in his abdomen. His hands moved to Ion’s jacket, in a desperate attempt to pry him off but when he realized he was doing nothing but failing, he did nothing but clutch at the fabric to distract himself from the burning.

 

                Heavy panting and strained groans of pain fled from his parted lips, when his breathing wasn’t getting stuck in his throat, creating desperate gasps as he struggled to breathe. Whatever was in him seemed to be moving deeper and deeper, working with that acidic concoction and the claws situated on the end of it.

“Interesting feeling, isn’t it?” Crowley said, finally speaking up. “Bullets aren’t the only things I made out of those angel blades of yours. This little…device here is coated with the liquid of your own kind’s weapons. Of course, there’s a little extra in the concoction; something to seep into the wounds and make it burn even worse.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Castiel breathed out, on the same breath as a high pitched whine of pain. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“In due time, love,”

 

                Castiel had debated on responding, opening his mouth to speak but any words he may have uttered were lost in his mind, replaced only by the scream of agony that emerged so forcefully. Amongst the burning and searing of his flesh, he felt the hooked claws sink deep inside somewhere he couldn’t quite identify. His breathing was choked, gasping desperately in long, cut off breaths as though he were being suffocated. They were becoming a muffled ring in his ears, moments before his vision started to fade. He was weak; too weak to fight this pain, and before he knew it, there was nothing.

 

 

                It had been perhaps merely minutes before he awoke again, with a gasping start to find Crowley gone and Ion standing before him. He was a mess, still lying indecent on the floor. Blood pouring form his abdomen and his now very abused backside.

“Ion,” he choked out, gruffer than usual. Though he had called the angel’s name, his mind failed him as he tried to continue the rest of his speaking. Seeing Castiel was awake though, Ion knelt down. Castiel stared at him, mouth opening to speak but all that came forth was a choked gasp as he continued his regimen of wheezing and gasping for breath that seemed not to come.

“I will set you free if you promise not to kill me.”

“What insanity has befallen you that makes you think I won’t kill you after what you’ve done to me?”

Ion merely swallowed, guilty heavy on his face. “I had no idea it would go this far… He’d given me no warning of his plan other than to retrieve the angel tablet.”

“What made you think working with Crowley was a good thing, in the first place? You are an angel, not a demon. How far has the corruption spread?” Castiel had some trouble speaking now, pain wracking his brain, interrupting his speech and constricting his lungs so that he could not breathe.

“Heaven is far more corrupt than you know. That’s why I left, Castiel. I’ve seen too much. Too much to let them get away with what they’re doing. They’ve been in our heads…Reprograming us like common machines.”

“Do you know what you’ve done? Letting the tablet fall into Crowley’s hands, of all people?”

“If there’s no one to read the tablet, it won’t matter. Kevin seems to have figured out the game he was playing with him. Crowley was angry; very angry, and there’s a good chance he may attack Kevin. If he does…”

“The archangels…” Castiel merely stated.

“Exactly.”

“With Heaven so devastated, are there any left?”

“There are…”

“What has he done to me?” Castiel questioned, suddenly remembering the immense amount of pain running through his lower half.

“I’m not sure but it… It sounds very bad. He wants to use you, somehow, to keep the gates open.”

“Why did you let him? How could you stand by and watch him do this to me?”

“Fear…Unlike you I’m a much lower rank of angel. Crowley could destroy me at a moment’s notice, and even then he could probably still have continued his work. By obeying, I was able to bide time. I was going to figure out a way to get you out. I could care less for human affairs but you…The things he’s mentioned, I can’t bear to put you through so much pain, standing by and knowing it was happening…”

 

                Without Castiel’s consent, Ion’s hand started to work against the gaping wound lying in his abdomen. His fingers dug deep into the wound and Castiel could only let out a shuttering breath, jaw tensing as they worked. The gash glowed briefly before Ion’s fingers finally drew away, holding that familiar bullet.

“Go.”

 

               

                It took Castiel some time to get out, trench coat pulled around himself to shield his nudity, as he wasn’t quite sure where the rest of his clothes were, and he most likely didn’t have time to try to put them back on. He hadn’t gotten far, unable to teleport as usual due to the severely weakened state of his body. As fate would have it, he collapsed somewhere on an abandoned road, desperately trying to crawl off to the side when he heard the rumble of an engine approaching. Blinded by it’s lights as it screeched to a halt, he saw nothing, but heard a familiar voice calling out his name with such panic. In that moment, he felt that for once, he was safe.


	2. Healing Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an assload of platonic Cas/Sam here involving a lot of Sam and Cas's dainty bits so be warned.

                The ride back to the bunker was awkward, but there was an air of worry swirling around the car. Castiel realized, at this point, he was very weak. Still losing, or having lost, a lot of blood and being in near agonizing pain, he was fairly unresponsive. Trying to move with such wounds had taken its toll; he was exhausted, and delirious. Despite their instant questioning on what had happened, Castiel could do little more than to answer who had done this to him, with a weak and croaking, “Crowley…” It was at this point that the brothers decided to stop trying to question him at the moment and let him rest, or rather lay there in pain and stare at the ceiling of the car’s roof and drift in and out of conscious thought, to a point where he would sometimes lay there and feel and think absolutely nothing, but he knew he was still alive.

 

                Dean was insistent that Sam not touch him, as Sam was ‘far too sick’ to be carrying anyone, so he took it upon himself to haul him from the car, to which he became startled.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s me Cas, I’ve got you,” he soothed, as best as he could with the harshness of his already gruff voice, deepened with age and abuse. He relaxed long enough for Dean to pick him up bridal style, and he heard him mumble something with urgency to Sam as he carried him inside. His compassion seemed to fade though the moment he set him down on the bed, running off in the other room with Sam. Castiel couldn’t quite hear them, all of his senses dulled.

“Sam…I know you’re sick and all, but you gotta fix this.”

“Fix what, his wounds? He’s an angel, Dean. What am I supposed to do?”

“Bind them, or something! He’s bleedin’ everywhere. We at least need to try to fix it. You’re better with this than I am; the whole medical thing.”

“Is that all there is?” Sam asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

“…I’m pissed at him, okay? I-I know he’s hurt and all, but …if I don’t have to, I’d rather stay away from the sonuvabitch.”

“Dean, he-,”

“I don’t care, Sam! He may have lied to us both, but that asshole tried to kill me!”

“Keep your voice down!” Sam hissed, nearing him. “Kill you?”

“Yeah, that time down in the crypt? Bastard almost killed me. At time he was convincing, you know; possession and all that shit. Mind control. But his little boss came and told me otherwise. Now I’m not sure who to believe, but Cas hasn’t exactly had the best track record lately.”

“I’m really hoping this is just stress and shit, and that you’re not actually shunning him. This is Cas we’re talking about! It was you who fought to convince us he wasn’t the enemy, not so long ago. You can’t just turn around and-, no, forget it. Just go. I’ll take care of this,” Sam said, clearly annoyed before heading into the room. Castiel was still lying there, coat still bound around his waist and blood still seeping through the cloth. Sam was both lucky and unlucky that Dean had the forethought to bring him to his own room, as he did have a stash of medical supplies in there. How did Dean know that…? Or did he know that?

                Sam strode over to the bed with quiet, short strides and Castiel barely turned his head to look at him.

“Cas…we have to do something about those wounds. I know I can’t heal them, like you can heal ours, but I can at least stop the bleeding, and keep it from getting infected. Can angels get infected…?”

“Not likely, but it is possible, given the state and infliction of the wounds.”

Castiel was feeling slightly better now; the prospect of a safe place starting to kick start his mind just enough for it to work.

Without waiting for more of an answer, Sam headed over to his drawers, pulling out a make-shift first aid kit. Bandages, needles, empty needleless syringes, tape, peroxide, antiseptic, colored fishing line, pliers, Neosporin, scissors, rags and gauze all filled the box. They lived a life where it was easy to get hurt and they were always well stocked and well prepared. Mostly. The fishing line was mostly used for wound stitching. It was a lot easier to come by fishing line than any actual emergency stitching kit with proper wound sutures.

“Is it okay if I do this?” Sam asked, and Castiel merely nodded. A bit nervously, Sam came to Castiel’s side and pulled the coat open just enough to expose his abdominal wound, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt that was currently in the way. He was back over at his dresser in no time, pulling out a bottle of hand sanitizer and coating a generous amount on before heading back over.

 

                With his hands now sanitized, his fingers gently pushed around the wound, pulling the skin to see just how deep it went. Castiel hissed slightly in response, but there wasn’t much Sam could do. He tried to make idle conversation, or rather tried asking the question that was burning on his mind.

“Cas…I need to ask, what…what happened to your pants?”

“Lost them…” was the only response he gave.

“You lost them?”

“There was a…problem. I don’t know where they are.”

Sam merely nodded, still working with the wound before he made his way to get a few supplies from the kit. He found it better to just move it next to him, though. He grabbed an unopened water bottle from his nightstand, cracking it open before pouring it on a rag and cleaning away the excess blood from the wound so that he could see better. This was followed by antiseptic applied to a square of gauze and swiped along the wound. As he began threading the needle, finding it harder than usual, he spoke again.

“What the hell happened there? It’s like someone tried to rip your guts out.”

“That is precisely what happened. Except it wasn’t organs, it was the tablet…”

“The angel tablet? Does Crowley have it?”

“Unfortunately…”

“…That’s where you kept it? How…how did you get it in there?”

“Manipulation,”

 

                Sam silenced himself after he’d managed to thread the needle, closing in on the wound and warning him that it would be unpleasant before pushing the needle through the skin. He heard him let out a muffled whimper as the needle went through, threading it’s way through the opposite side. Pushing and pulling the opposite flaps together. It was done soon enough, and Sam cut the line, tying it off and taping a few squares of gauze to his chest.

“..You can’t stay in those clothes,” Sam warned suddenly, looking him over. “They’re covered in blood. I’ll have them cleaned. It’s going to be massive on you but you can try wearing some of my pajamas. I don’t want to bother Dean about this…”

Castiel nodded, attempting to sit, but the pain in his stomach jolted through his body, coupled with his exhaustion it caused him to lay back down. Sam pursed his lips, seemingly in thought before he ran through his drawers.

“I’ll uh…I’ll help you, if that’s okay with you. You know, seeing you naked and all.”

“I have absolutely no qualms about nudity, but I figured it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

Sam shrugged, “No, it’s…it’s fine. Can you get that off?”

Castiel nodded, waiting until Sam went back to his drawers before slipping off the rest of the clothing. It was a bit awkward being naked on Sam’s bed, but this was something completely unsexual.

 

                Sam had turned around, not expecting to be too phased, but was quite so. It wasn’t his nudity that bothered him, it was the blood streaked down his thighs and so forth.

“Cas…Why didn’t you tell me about… _that_?” he asked, gesturing towards his lower half.

“As I said before, I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“Appropriate or not, you can’t just hide something like that… It needs to be addressed. Do you want to take care of that yourself? It’s…so close to your…parts, and all.”

“I was barely able to sit up much less dress my own wounds, Sam. That’s why I thought I’d forgo mentioning it.”

                Sam only sighed in irritation before moving to wipe his hands of the blood, again applying the sanitizer. He fidgeted slightly before sitting between Castiel’s legs, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Can I…?” he asked, not really sure what else to say. Castiel’s only response was to bend his knees and spread his legs, exposing himself. It was actually a bit embarrassing… Sam felt his heart drop a little when he saw just where the bleeding was from. He had an inkling but he was pushing it back until now, really hoping his suspicions were incorrect. Though he couldn’t be prepared for what was under all that blood. He attempted to do the same treatment as he did with the last wound, wiping it off with bottled water and a rag, wiping away at the wound. But it went very poorly, as he hadn’t known just how injured he was. Ragged pieces of wound and what had already started to heal stuck within the fibers, and as he pulled away, so did the wound. It pulled away a long strip of already burnt skin, revealing the even more sensitive underside.

 

                It all seemed to happen so fast; the skin ripping and the muffled, shocked groan that the angel let out.

“Shit, shit! I’m sorry, oh fuck…” Sam said, clearly not expecting that. This was way worse than he had thought. It was almost unrecognizable down there. Everything was burnt and raw and seeping. All of the under flesh exposed and bloody…

“How far does this go?” Sam asked, voice shaking a little, some of it from anger and some of it from shock.

“I don’t know…Deep. Very deep.”

“Estimate?”

“Past my colon…”

“We’ll have to get what we can, then,” Sam said, hopping off the bed suddenly and rushing to the bathroom. He managed to catch Dean exiting, looking guilty and worried but still giving off the attitude that he wasn’t going anywhere near Castiel.

“Is he uh…okay?” Dean asked.

“No. Not at all Dean, I-…I just…I’ll talk to you when I finish up,” he said, rushing past him and grabbing a sizeable towel. He was back in his room, but it took more time than he’d have liked. A few dizziness spells hitting him on the way there.

 

                He managed to get the towel beneath the angel’s hips, working through his kit for a moment and filling a syringe with a mixture of antiseptic and peroxide. It probably wasn’t the best idea, but he was doing it. He very gently dabbed at the area with antiseptic soaked gauze before taking a breath, pulling the skin up above the area so that he was opened enough to insert the tip of the syringe.

“Cas, I’m going to need you to relax…I’m going to put this in you, okay?” Sam asked, holding up the syringe. “Just the very end. I’m not doing this to hurt you, I promise.”

“But it will hurt…” Castiel confirmed. Sam only nodded, guilt on his face. Castiel let out a breath and nodded at him, as an okay.

 

                Sam felt like he was defusing a bomb, as he worked the very tip of the syringe through the part of his opening that wasn’t completely marred. “I’m going to inject this. It’s going to sting a little, but I’ll go slow. You need to hold it in for a bit and then just let go on this towel…If you can do that.”

Again, Castiel nodded. Sam released the hold he had on the skin, so that it closed around the tip of the syringe, and the angel let out a pained whimpering noise. The minute the injections started, Castiel tensed up, fingers gripping the sheets as he let out a gasping hiss. The longer this went on, the worse it hurt, and the more he displayed his pain. By the time Sam had stopped, Castiel was shaking, jaw tight as he groaned out roughly from his chest.

“Just a few seconds…” Sam encouraged, pulling the syringe way and watching a drop of foaming white slip past in the few moments it had an escape. Those few seconds seemed like a millennia, before he spoke again, “Okay. Let go.”

 

                It wasn’t so much letting go as it was forcibly ejecting the substance from his body, straining so that it spurted out quickly. Bubbling and bloody, dripping down onto the towel as his body trembled and his breathing shook. Sam once again dabbed at him with the gauze, getting away the remaining peroxide that had dripped forth. He pulled the towel away, grabbing the clothes and rags as he went.

“You know what, just…you’re in a lot of pain. I can tell. Just stay here for the night. Don’t even bother getting dressed right now. It’s fine…” Sam said, rushing out with all the things in his arms. Dean wasn’t too far off, waiting for Sam’s diagnosis as it were.

“Well?”

“Follow me,” Sam said, heading off to go throw what he had in the laundry. He was silent for a moment, thinking of what to say.

“Crowley, for lack of a better word…fucked him up. I..I don’t know what the Hell possessed him to …to _burn_ him like he did.”

“Burn him…?” Dean asked.

“He was hiding it from me but he got undressed and he’s…he was just bleeding all down his legs. I tried to wipe it away, and…God Dean, it was terrible. I ripped his skin off. It’s so raw and burnt. I’ve never seen him in so much pain. I don’t know what he did, but Cas said Crowley went deep. He’s got burns to his colon and probably further.”

“His colon….?!” Dean asked. “You saying Crowley shoved something up his ass and...” Dean paled for a moment, before his face reddened with anger. “That son of a bitch!” Dean shouted, resisting the urge to punch a wall. “Why would he do that?! I know Crowley’s an asshole but I never thought he’d stoop that low!” Dean sighed, trying to clear his mind but failing for the most part, only changing the subject slightly. “How did you even treat that?”

“Dabbed it down with some antiseptic and boiled out the inside with peroxide to get out whatever…bacterias may have been shoved in there.”

Dean sighed again, heavily and annoyed this time. “This is some shit. You’re sick, Cas is wounded to Hell…is God done trying to play some cosmic joke on us yet? Well, it’s probably not God. No one knows where the fuck he is…I’m…I’m out of here, Sam. Going to my room. I’ll go see him later…”

“So you’ve kissed and made up, more or less?”

Dean scoffed, shaking his head, “Kissed? No. Nor have we made up. But after what Crowley did, I can’t just keep hating him…”


End file.
